


Session One

by Buffy (BuffyScribbles)



Series: Shackles [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)
Genre: BDSM, Blindfolds, Consensual Kink, Consensual Mental Reprogramming, Cuffs, D/s, Established Relationship, Gags, Implied Multi-Day Suspension, Lost in Subspace, M/M, Master-Loki, Master/Slave, Orgasm Delay/Denial, S&M, Safe Sane and Consensual, Semi-Suspension, Slave-Steve, Spreader Bars, Subspace, Total Power Exchange, Trained Behavior, mcu - Freeform, speech restriction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2018-05-10 14:12:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5589148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BuffyScribbles/pseuds/Buffy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Playlist found here:<br/>https://play.spotify.com/user/buffy.scribbles/playlist/7Fi3HSnYkKWOzRAHbTAkty</p><p>I have been bound by the shackles of love<br/>And I don't mind if I die tied up</p><p>“How long’s it been since you’ve had me, sir,” he asked, a coy note to his voice. For all his submission, it took far more intensive, more rigid sessions for Steve to abandon his sense of self completely.</p><p>Unbeta'd; my apologies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Session One

**Author's Note:**

> Please see tags for any and all warnings. If you feel I missed something, feel free to comment.

Steve wasn’t entirely certain how long he’d been where he was. Hours, certainly. Days, maybe, but he couldn’t be sure.

The clinking was something to focus on, but where was it coming from?

He heard it again, and felt his brow furrow. His gaze was so unfocused he wondered if his eyelids were even open at all. They didn’t feel like they were responding.

A cold draft wafted over him, and Steve shivered. _ClinkClink._

Despite the sensation, he didn’t feel chilled. Or alarmed. Steve presumed that was on account of the lack of context for his situation.

There was an art to gleaning as much information from your environment as possible without making it obvious you were even conscious. It was a skill Steve had long since perfect to second nature. He subtly rolled his wrist.

_ClinkClink._

Cause and effect cleared up where the noise was coming from, and the ‘why’ was quick to follow. His wrists were bound, cuffed, and on further exploration of his sense of self, Steve could tell he was upright, arms over his head with a slight strain. His feet were planted on the ground, at least.

There was something on his face restricting his sight. What he had gotten himself into, this time?

Despite how disoriented he was, panic and anxiety didn’t accompany any of the assessments he made about who/what/where. 

His lips twitched down into the beginnings of a confused frown, but before he could feel any more lost, clarity cut through the fog in the form of a voice.

“Ah, you’re awake.”

A shuddering breath he didn’t know he’d been holding released, and relaxed through him. The involuntary action made his body slouch and tug a little too painfully at the joints from shoulder to wrist.

“Tsk. You know better.” A sharp snap to his hip reminded Steve to straighten up, and it immediately relieved the ache that had begun to set in his shoulder.

He tried to respond, but found his tongue and mouth blocked. Steve let out a deep, needy groan, and to his surprise, the gag was removed.

“You wish to speak. You may.”

“ _Master_.”

A smirk. Steve didn’t need the blindfold to be removed to know it was there. “Yes, I’m here. You didn’t think I’d forgotten about you, did you?”

“Mmm, no,” he hummed out his response, shifting his weight slightly to keep the circulation going in his feet. His master would be _quite_ unhappy if he didn’t take care of himself, even strung up as he seemed to be.

“Good.” 

There was something of a shuffling sound, and Steve knew better than to think it was anything but deliberate. “Close your eyes, pet,” he heard against his ear, and Steve did as he’d been told without the haze of his thoughts being upset.

He felt the coolness against and around his eyes in sharp contrast to the general warmth he’d been cocooned in and nearly whimpered for it. Now, the anxiety began to creep forward. Steve could guess what was coming.

“I don’t think I’m ready master,” he whispered, urging his anxiety melt against his trust, his experiential knowledge that it was always best to refrain from keeping self-truths from his master. His success was dubious at best.

The kiss to his forehead was appreciation, he knew, but the smack to his jaw was something else.

“You are ready when I say you are, isn’t that true,” came the reminder. Steve inclined his head in apology, but he knew the tone demanded a verbal response.

“Yes, sir,” he said, a smile touching to his lips. 

“Now, open your eyes.” Steve squeezed his eyelids shut tight first before opening them. It was always a process, to be flooded with stimuli, his senses all reshuffling to allow his vision to be used again with good balance.

His master stood patiently, a few steps before him, waiting for Steve’s gaze to focus on his own. By the time it did, Steve nearly moaned at the sight.

Naturally he’d seen his master without a stitch of clothing on many times, but it was still a sight that could make him ache with need. Going by the amused smile and heat to his master’s eyes, it hadn’t gone unnoticed. 

His gaze wandered shamelessly over his master’s form; Steve could read his master’s desires as easily as his own needs could be deduced.

“How long’s it been since you’ve had me, sir,” he asked, a coy note to his voice. For all his submission, it took far more intensive, more _rigid_ sessions for Steve to abandon his sense of self completely.

He felt his whole being pulse just to hear the warm, full laughter his remark incurred. 

“Far too many hours, my good slave.” His master stepped forward, and Steve’s surprised groan was swallowed by thin lips and an overwhelming kiss. Long, certain fingers twisted into his hair, and yanked his head back.

“Ahh, yes,” he hissed, a strangled moan catching in his throat when he felt blunt, hard teeth latch at his skin.

“No more words.” The command was laced with desperation, and while Steve would tend to worry over that, he knew what his master needed.

Those teeth scraped, down over the hollow of his throat. Gasps wrung out of his throat, twisted among moans that deepened when his master stroked hard over his erection, but only once.

“Your skin is always so remarkable.” The compliment was a purr against his chest, as a tongue flicked out to harden a nipple. Steve could feel his master thrumming with tension. It was clear he was holding himself back, though why that was, Steve could guess, and had no way to be certain. At least, not yet, and made sure to remember to ask after the issue when his master felt more lax.

He shouldn’t’ve been surprised to feel the hard length of his master press into him, but he was, and his gasping, hoarse moan reflected that.

“I couldn’t wait any more,” his master breathed against his ear. Steve whined, the strained quality to his desire that he’d sensed within his master’s body earlier all but gone. His hectic touch had stilled, and Steve hyper-focused on the slow, deliberate whisper of his master’s hand across his lower belly. His own body relaxed, mindful of the crossed wrists above him, and he pressed his hips back to open his body even further.

“Mmmmm yes, that’s it. You always know what I need, slave.” A hand gripped his thigh and that was all the warning he received. 

Steve cried out against each hard thrust, and they were perfectly angled because denying his pleasure wasn’t the point. He loved it best, like this.

The point here was need. Closeness. His master often enjoyed the exploration, the study, to take his time and enjoy his slave’s body before he would devolve into seeking completion. That was what clearly drove him now, though. It was a certain kind of pleasure, and one that made Steve gasp and pant for air, feeling nothing short of consumed by everything his master was. 

Each slam of hips against his ass was accompanied by a moan from his master’s lips that was breathier than the one prior. It was incredibly arousing.

His master was searching for satisfaction, still. Steve could feel it in the fluttering of his grip on both hips, clenching hands that would leave bruises in their uncertain wake. He felt his master’s face press to his shoulder, and the sensation of his own strength being drawn out for the good of the man he served was almost more physical than it was emotional. 

Smooth hips began to stutter. 

“Ohh, elskan,” he heard, and it made the pleasure in the pit of Steve's stomach smooth and warm.

The tension had returned. Steve could feel it in the taut litheness that hummed against his back, the bite of nails in the tops of his thighs. His instincts as an obedient, well trained slave were currently in control of his senses, and Steve could tell his master needed something of a nudge in the right direction.

He couldn’t speak and he was immobile, but the pulsing warmth that hadn’t let up beneath his waist reminded him that his master was still moving within him. A slow smile stretched over his lips and he tightened as much as he could on the next up-thrust.

“Ahh, frábær, so good!” It was good enough that Steve’s head was jerked back, his back arching into it as he was slammed into that much harder. He was so far past overstimulated he almost couldn’t tell the difference. Almost, because that tension had ebbed away, and the confidence was back.

There was nothing left between them now. Strong arms clutched him close, lips smeared restlessly over his skin, and Steve felt weightless, in the midst of freefall.

“Say it, elskan.” He felt the press of arms around his chest and waist just the same as he felt a hand cup beneath his chin. Steve’s eyes re-opened and focused easily, warm and curious as to what he’d see.

His master stood before him just as real as the body that writhed behind him, and the erection inside him, and Steve smiled. “I’m yours, Loki.”

Steve lived for the smile those three words could incite. The work it took to get here would always be worth it, and as much as Steve hoped for a day when it would be easier (it had gotten easier over the years), he felt full of just as much awe now as he did the first time Loki looked at him this way.

“Again,” his master sighed, content, and Steve turned his head into the knuckle-back caress that was given.

“Yours, Loki….master,” he breathed, fluttering his eyes shut and idly letting his inner walls flutter around his master’s cock. It was meant for communication, more than anything, that Steve was right there with him, _both_ expressions of Loki’s being.

“Mmm as I am yours.” The Loki projection leaned in as though to kiss him, dissolving on contact and Steve groaned, letting his head tip back against his master’s shoulder. 

“I know, master. I know,” he breathed, but by then, Steve knew Loki was too far gone to hear. The thrusts were messy, hard and fast and they jerked his body against his restraints. Panting, keening breaths echoed through the small space they were in, and Steve knew it wouldn’t be much longer now.

Nails bit into his chest and dragged down, pulling a hiss from Steve’s lips, but it did next to nothing to affect the buzzing, floating bliss that was beginning to pervade through his whole self.

Steve was probably babbling endearments by then, but he was beginning to lose track of language. Faintly, as though it was happening in a dream, he heard something of a shout followed by hummed heat.

“...much longer.”

“Hmm?”

Snapped fingers made his eyes flash open.

“ _Slave_.”

Steve’s gaze sharpened, settling on something, and it took another moment or two to register his master’s face. “‘m here,” he managed at length, a frown pressing over his brow. The words felt klunky on his tongue.

“Yes, barely. We don’t have the luxury of you going much deeper.” His master’s face took on an expectant quality, and Steve blinked slowly.

“Mmkay…”

The slow climb of his master’s brow line and the particular lightness to his gaze made Steve grin, and giggle.

“Do you understand my speech, pet?”

“No clue, sir,” he laughed. Loki shook his head slightly, and when Steve concentrated, he could see the amusement written all over his master’s body language.

“I thought as much. Let’s get you down, hmm?” Steve rolled his head to the side, watching as his master unbuckled the cuffs and simultaneously wrapped a steadying arm about his waist. “Don’t try and move your feet quite yet, elskan,” his master coached and he nodded, idly turning his neck this way and that to encourage any kinks to resolve.

“Didn’t even notice,” he mumbled.

As Loki worked the spreader bar off his ankles, Steve blinked and looked around. One hand gently rested on his master’s shoulder to keep his balance. His gaze settled on Loki, kneeling at his feet still as he disconnected the last restraint.

They were in the middle of their loft.

“Master?”

“Yes, pet?”

“Did you use any illusions recently,” he asked. Loki requested a moment to finish his task before answering and Steve quietly nodded. He still hadn’t entirely located his vocabulary, and he tended to struggle immediately after any sort of extended speech restriction.

“No, I haven’t. Why do you ask?” The answer, and subsequent question, came with a curious frown and a touch to the jaw. Loki had paused for his response, but seeing that he was still forming an answer, instead turned away to set the spreader bar in its place in the wall mounted case opposite where Steve was facing.

He stared at the items under glass as he spoke.

“I thought….well. I don’t know what I thought. I think I have to answer that later, sir,” Steve mumbled and Loki nodded, coming up to him again.

“It’ll come.” Loki’s quiet certainty was a rare thing, outside of their sessions, and Steve implicitly trusted the intonation. He nodded again without question, and watched with tiring eyes as his master inspected his wrists.

“Are you feeling any pain right now,” Loki asked. Steve shook his head, and gave Loki a slightly lost look. He wasn’t disappointed when understanding dawned on his master. “You’ve misplaced your words again, haven’t you?”

Steve’s smile was wan, but there, and he gave a half shrug; _oh well, it was worth it._

Loki tsked and smacked his jaw again, just enough to be felt. “We’ll talk about that later. Don’t think I’m going to let it slide,” he insisted, but Steve could see the happiness in his master’s eyes. Happiness that he’d put there.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, master.” His smile turned lopsided and rakish, causing Loki to momentarily turn his eyes towards the ceiling.

“Your rash behavior is going to drive me to an early grave,” Loki bemoaned and Steve watched his master cast practiced eyes over his wrists. 

“They don’t hurt,” he managed, knowing that the more he forced himself to speak the sooner the haze would clear. Loki hummed in acknowledgement, pressing his hands up Steve’s arms and over his shoulders, obviously checking the joints.

“You did a good job responding to a new command earlier,” his master remarked. It took a moment, but the words ‘new command’ seeped through to him and Steve straightened slightly.

“New command?” Steve frowned, trying to recall, but in his disoriented state it was delayed.

A snap to his thigh. _You know better_ , and the phantom echo of pain to shoulder socket. 

Steve’s body straightened instantly. Confusion came first, but as he understood, delight soon followed. “What is it for,” he asked at length, the words sounding less slurred to his own ears at least.

“Mm, a few things, but so far it focuses you, and stiffens your posture.”

He nodded, giving Loki a soft, faintly pleased smile. When Loki had shown him how it worked (in his own mind Steve referred to it as ‘imprinting’, that is, when his master would push him into a certain stripped state of mind to condition his body to behave in a particular way) it had initially made him very nervous. It wasn’t an aspect of their relationship he’d been comfortable expanding until recently, and so far his master hadn’t given him any reason to change his mind.

“Do you remember talking about it,” Loki asked curiously. Steve felt his master’s hand grasp onto his own and tug, and Steve obediently took a few steps. He didn’t wobble, so it couldn’t’ve been all that long.

“Yes….I remember that we did, but I’ll be damned if I can remember what we said,” he admitted with a puff of laughter. Loki nodded and stepped back. 

Steve smiled warmly at his master, feeling a little more present. “I don’t feel much pain, just aches here and there.” He felt an odd sense of relief that he could answer his master’s question even if it was belated.

“I am glad to hear it,” his master replied and Steve nodded. He was led, then, into the bathroom, and directly into the hedonistically massive shower stall.

“Plant your hands, elskan.”

Steve did as he was told, following the casual directive easily. His palms pressed to the glass above his head, and his stance widened. His weight shifted idly from foot to foot as he heard his master fiddle with the spickets and the water gush on.

“Are you cold, pet,” he was asked and Steve nodded. This time he remembered almost immediately he needed to speak.

“Sorry, yeah, a little.” More fiddling, and Steve was just starting to relax when his master’s hands began to work over his body. He groaned when the pressure deepened across his shoulders. “Ohh that’s...sir.” The massage was unexpected, but Steve’s body responded eagerly to it. It was soothing, and just what he needed.

The touch to his stiff cock made a gasp crack in his throat. “ _Master_.”

“Mmmm I do so _love when I an illicit that...desperate_ tone.” His voice has taken on a thoroughly cheshire texture, and Steve loved it. 

“Yes. Desperate. Good...word choice, sir,” Steve panted, thump-squeaking his head against the clear glass.

“Do you remember the last time I let you come, slave?”

Steve groaned, his hips twisted and his toes curled, the want was so sharp. “No,” he croaked.

He was too well behaved to orgasm without his master’s say so, but the implication was that he’d recently been allowed to climax.

“It’s time for release, elskan.”

Steve whimpered for his master.

It didn’t take much more than that. A few firm strokes and permission, and Steve was screaming hoarsely into his bicep as he striped the glass paneling in come.

“Mm, oh yes.” Steve gasped for breath, chest heaving as Loki’s hands moved over his body once more as though his detour had never occurred. His shivering had subsided by the time his master murmured that he was finished. If Steve thought he was foggy and tired before, he was bone exhausted and brainless now by comparison.

“Oh, you’re going to dry me off?” When had they left the shower? Steve smiled affectionately when Loki gave him a bemused grin.

“You’ve grown exhausted almost more quickly than the last time you returned from a bout with a pile of doombots.” His master’s remark had Steve laughing.

“That sounds ‘bout right.” Steve dutifully lifted his arms out to the side as his master began to towel down his limbs.

“But you are well, yes?”

Steve smiled lovingly to hear his master’s uncertainty. To be allowed to continue to hear the tendrils of what he’d seen of his master more intimately, now that the walls were necessary again, was something he treasured. 

“With you, always,” he murmured quietly. Steve didn’t miss the days that such frank appreciation would make his master blanch, grateful that now it soothed the anxiety and brought a smile to his master’s lips. 

“Good.” Now dried, it was his master’s turn to care for himself. Not given any instruction, Steve leaned against the wall, casting his eyes over his master as he readied himself for sleep. Nearing the point where Steve would guess he would be led into the bedroom, Steve reached out for his master but did not touch.

Loki’s eyebrows rose in question, and Steve’s smile was boyish. “Can I kiss you?” His master hesitated, but Steve knew that particular request was rarely denied.

“Of course.” The hesitation gave way to a tentative smile. Steve had long suspected Loki would never believe anyone truly wished to kiss him, but he was left undaunted.

Steve pushed away from the wall and stepped into Loki’s personal space. One hand slowly pressed to his master’s chest and he leaned in. He loved how he had to tilt his head back _just_ so and to the left, to press their mouths together. 

His eyes drifted shut and he allowed his teeth to latch onto Loki’s bottom lip just enough to suck it into his mouth. The slick, velvet taste of his master curled heat through him and Steve groaned.

“Mmmph, pet.” Loki had pulled away and Steve’s eyes opened leisurely. 

“Mmm?”

“You kiss as though you’re going to perish,” his master teased, and Steve gave a quiet laugh.

“Is that a complaint sir,” he asked with a teasing grin. As they spoke their lips nudged together. Steve was sure they shared saliva. Though he felt weary, he sensed he was wholly returned to himself and there was a secret relief there.

“Never.” His master pulled back just enough to bump their noses together before slipping around him, reaching back for Steve’s hand. “Come, slave.”

They tangled on the bed, under thick covers. “I am tired, but you _need_ to sleep, pet.” Loki’s fingers moved through his hair, and Steve hummed.

“Ain’t gonna take long, master,” he mumbled, pillowing his head on something and nuzzling his master. 

He wasn’t sure where his nose was pressed against, not really, but Steve knew he was warm, safe, loved, and as ever, obedient.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, and I do hope you enjoyed! I would welcome any comments and especially suggestions. If there is anything in particular you would be keen on seeing in this series, I will attempt to work it in. As always, I can be found on tumblr @BuffyScribbles if you are so inclined, though I have not had time to be social recently. Happy new year!
> 
> P.S. I am ever in search of a beta, if anyone is interested :)


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